


Two-part harmony

by fromthedeskoftheraven



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 21:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6059290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthedeskoftheraven/pseuds/fromthedeskoftheraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A song leads to confessions of love around the campfire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two-part harmony

 

The sun was setting as you helped Bombur and Bifur lug the cooking pots back to camp from the riverbank where you had worked together to wash them. The calm, cool, lavender twilight was refreshing after a long day of traveling, and the crackling campfire invited the company to gather around and rest their weary bodies in its warmth.

When at last you went to join the circle of lounging dwarves, Fili caught your eye and quietly spoke up as you approached. “You can sit here if you like,” he gestured to the fallen log where he was seated next to his brother, “it’s close to the fire.”

“Ori! Budge up.” Kili sprang into action, shuffling Ori to a precarious perch at the very end of the log to make room beside Fili, but Ori, already sulky because Kili had accidentally knocked one of his journals into a damp streambed earlier in the day, was having none of it. He scooted himself forcefully against the combined weight of the Durin brothers and huffily reclaimed his place.

“It’s all right,” you said placatingly, settling yourself on a large tree stump beside Dori, who gave you a companionable smile. “I can sit here, it’ll be quite warm enough.”

You could have sworn you saw Kili throw his brother an apologetic look, and you dared to hope that Fili might share your disappointment, but the incident was quickly forgotten as Bofur began a rollicking song, and the small assembly broke out in approving hoots and clapping hands in time with the beat. The rousing dwarvish tunes had been entirely unfamiliar to you when you’d first joined the company as a guide and the lone human among Thorin Oakenshield’s ragtag band of followers, but at this point in the journey you often found yourself quietly humming them as you trudged through the wilderness, and you enjoyed the cheerful evenings at the fireside as much as anyone else.

Applause rang out as Bofur finished his song with a flourish, and some called for an encore. As you were giggling behind your hand with a scandalized Dori about the naughty lyrics of the drinking song Bofur usually liked to bring out at this point in the evening, you were surprised to hear your own name called out by his lilting voice.

“Why don’t you favor us with a song? I know you’ve got the voice for it, heard you singin’ to yourself while we were washing our kits in the stream yesterday.”

Though your cheeks warmed as every eye in the group turned to you, you were feeling agreeable, and with a nod of assent, took a moment to comb your memory for a tune they might like.

“Oh, I’ve got one…all right.” Your nervous cough to clear your throat seemed to echo in the still night, but you took a deep breath and began to sing the haunting melody.

_“It’s of a young apprentice_  
_Who went to see his dear,_  
_The candles they were burning,_  
_The moon shone bright and clear._  
_He knocked upon her window_  
_To ease her of her pain,_  
_She rose to let him in  
_ _Then she barred the door again.”_

Just then, a loud whisper from Ori broke through the attentive silence. “What does it mean, ‘ease her of her pain?’ Is she sick?”

Kili rolled his eyes and gave Ori a little shove, and others in the group shushed him indignantly. With a small smile, you spoke patiently to him. “You must hear the lady’s response,” and without further ado, you continued with the second verse of the song.

_“I like your good behavior, darling,  
__Thus I often say._  
_But I cannot rest contented_  
 _While you are far away._  
 _The winds, they are so cold_  
 _That we cannot stay thereout,_  
 _So roll me in your arms, love,_  
 _And blow the candles out.”_

In the corner of your eye, you saw Ori turn crimson, and a few teasing snickers could be heard around the circle while Bofur nodded approvingly at the turn the song had taken. Resisting the urge to chuckle, you forged on.

_“Now father and mother_  
_In yonder room do lie,_  
_A-hugging one another_  
_So why not you and I?_  
_A-hugging one another_  
_Without a fear or doubt,_  
_So roll me in your arms, love,”_

You slowed and mellowed the tune, drawing out each note to finish.

_“And blow the candles out.”_

The last note still hung in the air as the dwarves cheered and clapped, and your eyes met Fili’s over the fire. He was looking at you with a rapt attention that suddenly made you feel as though the two of you were the only people in the forest. Dori’s congratulatory pat on your shoulder made you tear your gaze away from Fili, but the image of his parted lips and intent eyes stirred small, pleasant flutters in your stomach, and for the rest of the evening, your own eyes kept straying to his handsome face, finding, to your satisfaction, that he was just as often to be found glancing at you.

Darkness fell in earnest, and Thorin had admonished everyone to get to sleep. Long after the rest of the company had drifted into snoring slumber, you lay awake on your bedroll, looking up at the vast sky that seemed ablaze with stars, picking out constellations where you recognized them. Turning onto your side, you could look across the camp to where Fili kept watch close to the smoldering fire. His braided hair and the fur of his coat looked shaggy in the golden glow, and the firelight glinted on the blade of the dagger he twirled idly, effortlessly between his fingers.

Whether it was curiosity or boldness that spurred you on, you got up quietly, wrapping your blanket around yourself like a cloak, and weaved cautiously between the sleeping bodies of your companions to go to Fili where he sat alone. He looked up, surprised, as you approached, and the motion of the dagger came abruptly to a halt.

“Does your invitation to a seat by the fire still stand?”

He smiled and gallantly brushed off the log that served him as a bench, and you sat beside him, holding your hands to the glowing embers to warm them.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

“Not really.” You looked more closely at the dagger in his hand. “May I try it?”

He flipped it, catching the blade, and extended the handle to you. You took it silently, turning the blade to inspect its engravings, feeling the heft of the carved bone handle. “It’s a bit heavy to be practical,” you observed.

“That’s because your hands are small. You want to be able to hold it securely, like this,” his large, strong hand closed over yours, supporting the weight of the knife, “and then when the time comes…” he made a slow jab to demonstrate. “But not with this hand,” he smiled, almost absentmindedly tracing the length of your finger with his calloused thumb as he looked into your eyes, and your pulse quickened at the unexpectedly tender touch.

“Master dwarf, do you mean to hold my hand?” you spoke playfully, though the sudden dryness of your mouth tinged your voice with hoarseness.

“If I did…would you let me?” His eyes looked back and forth earnestly between yours.

“I would,” you whispered, and a dimple darkened his cheek in the firelight as he smiled and carefully took the dagger from your grasp, laying it aside, enveloping your hand in his to bring it to his lips and press a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“You were looking at me, when I sang,” you said, a question wrapped in a statement.

“I have looked at you since the day we met,” he admitted. “I never knew whether you would look at me.”

“Anyone with eyes would look at you, Fili,” you smiled shyly. “I don’t expect you have ever lacked for attention from ladies.”

He shrugged modestly. “Perhaps here and there…but never anyone like you.”

“Human, you mean?”

“No. Well, yes,” he amended, “but not only that. You are different.” 

“Well, I can safely say that you are the most fascinating dwarf of my acquaintance,” you offered.

Fili looked up curiously. “How many dwarves do you know?”

“Thirteen,” you answered promptly, and joined him in hushed laughter. 

He sighed, still smiling as he dropped his eyes to your joined hands. “I have met no other woman who has captured my imagination as you have,” he confessed, “and tonight, when I heard your sweet voice, I knew that my heart was well and truly lost to me.” 

Feeling as though some sort of tiny, winged creature had taken up residence in your chest, you reached to lay your free hand on his cheek, your fingertips gently exploring the softness of his beard. “Fili, you are such a man as any woman would be fortunate to love. And if you have lost your heart on my account,” your voice dropped to a bashful murmur, “let me offer you mine in return…though you must promise to take good care of it.”

“I shall consider it more precious than all the fabled treasure of Erebor,” he vowed, leaning into your touch.

“Then it seems we have struck a bargain,” you teased.

“So we have,” he grinned. “How shall we seal it?”

Your smile broadened as you drew closer to each other, your noses nearly touching. “How, indeed?” 

The first touch of his lips was gentle, grazing, the beads on his braided mustache cool against your skin. You paused, looking into each other’s eyes, exchanging the giddy smiles that tugged at both of your mouths, and his hand crept into your hair to cradle your head as your lips met again, more eagerly. The world seemed to fade away in a euphoric blur of his warm hands on your cheeks, his hard, muscled chest covered in coarse linen beneath your palms, the soft flicker of his tongue over the swell of your bottom lip, and when at last he rested his forehead against yours, he sighed deeply.

“I have dreamed of what it might be like to have you in my arms,” he whispered, with a contented grin.

You traced his lips with your thumb, smiling as you glanced toward the sleeping company. “When your watch is over, move your bedroll next to mine and find out.”

His grin grew wider, and he nodded, kissing you once more. “You must be weary, love,” he murmured. “You should rest…you can warm the blankets for me,” he added cheekily.

You hummed as you pressed your lips to his. “I’ll be waiting for _you_ to come and warm them,” you smiled, standing as his hand slid down your arm, reluctantly letting your fingers slip from his grasp. With a last glance, you walked back to your bedroll and settled down, an irresistible grin blooming on your face.

Your heavy eyelids had nearly succumbed to sleep when at last you felt a warm presence at your back, and a strong arm crept around your waist, tucking the blankets securely over you. “Fili…my Fili,” you whispered drowsily, liking the taste of the words, and his lips brushed your neck, just behind your ear, as he drew you snugly against his chest.

“I’m here, amrâlimê,” he whispered. “Sleep well.”

The shadow of a smile crossed your face, and the last thing you heard before sleep claimed you was Fili softly humming a familiar melody.

_So roll me in your arms, love,  
_ _And blow the candles out._


End file.
